


If Not For You

by LucisAbsentia



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Qui-Gon is so in love, Romance, Smut, Soul Bond, War, clone wars au, life bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24781708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucisAbsentia/pseuds/LucisAbsentia
Summary: As Qui-Gon struggles with his beliefs as a General in the Clone Wars, his lifebond with Obi-Wan is the steady ground that he stands upon.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 62
Kudos: 221





	1. General Jinn

**Author's Note:**

> The beautiful fanart from chapter one is a commission from Orientalld. Please check out her [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Orntlld/posts) or her [ Tumblr!](https://orientalld.tumblr.com/)

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/188946722@N07/50017975496/in/dateposted/)

Qui-Gon is weary when he and his men finally arrive at whatever base they're going to call home for the next few weeks, but his heart feels a little bit lighter than it has in a while. Obi-Wan is there too, he knows it, and that is the greatest gift he could receive at the moment. They've been apart too long this time. It makes Qui-Gon ache, right down to his bones. He tries not to look too eager as he looks around the camp, but the faint smile that his Captain gives him lets him know that he's perhaps not as subtle as he likes to think. Qui-Gon meets his gaze, a hint of a blush dusting his cheeks, while Gadget’s grin only grows a little wider. 

“Searching for someone, sir?” Gadget asks, barely concealing his amusement. Qui-Gon and his men are exceedingly close, closer than most people expect them to be. Their camaraderie is often playful, even with their General. “Do you need help? I think I saw a bit of red hair over to your left.”

“Very funny, Gadget,” Qui-Gon replies dryly. He glances around a bit more, noting the deep green of his troops’ armor beginning to mingle with the orange and dark blue of the other troops that have settled in. For that, he thanks the Force - they’re in a war. No one intentionally gives Qui-Gon time to spend with Obi-Wan and Anakin, they can’t schedule their duties around seeing each other. But they do work together often, and now they will rest together. 

"Take the men to the mess hall," Qui-Gon commands, clapping a hand on Gadget’s shoulder. "Then you should all get some rest. You did well today. You’ve all earned this reprieve.”

"Thank you, sir. Will do," the captain replies. "Make sure that you get something in you too, sir, once you've caught up with General Kenobi." Gadget nudges Qui-Gon gently with his elbow, looking up at him expectantly.

Qui-Gon wants to protest, but he knows that the other is right to say something. Sometimes he needs to be looked out for just as much as he looks out for them, or he'll forget to take care of himself. There’s been many times that his men have brought him food after he’s gone too long without, reminding him that they notice his habits as much as he notices theirs. "I will, Gadget, I promise."

With that, the captain leaves, and Qui-Gon returns to looking around for his partner. He only has a split-second warning as he feels the faint rush of a body running towards him, and suddenly his arms are full of the very man he was seeking. It's so unlike Obi-Wan to lose his composure like this, but it's just a sign that they've been apart _too long_ , Qui-Gon thinks again. He can hear his partner murmur his name, as he wraps both arms tightly around the smaller man. They remain that way for a few moments before Obi-Wan pulls back, his cheeks faintly red as he straightens himself up again. 

"Missed me?" Qui-Gon teases, but it's soft and gentle, because oh, he has missed the other too. Their bond is incredible even when they’re far apart - but there's nothing quite like being right beside the person he loves, able to touch and feel and ensure his safety. He reaches out through that bond, eager to be drenched in the warm rays of Obi-Wan’s presence. His partner reaches out in return, meeting him, and Qui-Gon feels every single care melt away. 

"Yes," Obi-Wan answers, frank honesty in his tone. "Don't pretend you didn't miss me too."

"I would never," Qui-Gon murmurs, reaching up with one gloved hand to cup Obi-Wan's cheek. "I missed you with all of my being." He takes a moment, brushing some of Obi-Wan's hair behind his ear.

"How was your mission?" Obi-Wan reaches up, his hands idly picking at Qui-Gon's tunic, before tapping across his chest, a soft metallic-y _plink_ as he passes over his heart. The chest-plate that Qui-Gon wears covers only a little more than half of his chest. Underneath his tunic, the rest of his own chest is hard and unyielding. It had been replaced as a necessary procedure after Naboo, after Maul stabbed him, wreaking havoc on his body. Now his flesh is fused with metal and synthetics, tough and sturdy and resilient. It had taken a while, to get used to, but it had enabled him to live. Qui-Gon would have agreed to any sort of surgery or treatment that allowed him to stay at Obi-Wan’s side. His Padawan had kept him alive long enough for the healers to do what they needed, and in those moments their lifebond had formed beside their training bond, the unspoken desires of each man making themselves plain. 

Qui-Gon studies Obi-Wan's face. He's got more lines than he used to, and Qui-Gon knows it's from the war. His own braid hangs down his back, shot through with more silver than there used to be. General Kenobi bears so much weight on his shoulders, and Qui-Gon loathes it. He wonders if Obi-Wan knows that he's the only thing keeping Qui-Gon here. Qui-Gon does not agree with this war, does not agree to the Jedi leading armies, waging battles. If Obi-Wan only said the words, Qui-Gon would leave it all behind and go with him wherever he wanted.

But Obi-Wan believes they are doing the best thing they can. So he stays.

"It was good. No surprises this time," Qui-Gon replies. He does not lead battles the way that Obi-Wan and Anakin do. After Maul he will never be quite the same at fighting. His troops are made up of clones that have what are considered “defects”. But they have their own skill-sets, and they trust Qui-Gon. Together, they are a sort of cleanup crew. They fight, yes, but mostly they follow behind the other troops after large battles. They find any straggling droids, and help civilians that got caught in the crossfire. They re-establish order. Qui-Gon himself had proven to be an excellent healer, which wasn’t a skill he’d developed much before Maul. But the Living Force has granted him a gift that enables him to help heal, possibly because he can no longer protect as well as he once could. 

Obi-Wan smiles, his face softening immensely. “I’m very glad to hear it,” he murmurs. “I quite like it when you come back without any new scars.”

Qui-Gon reaches up to cup Obi-Wan’s cheeks, and the younger man places his hands on Qui-Gon’s arm braces. They’re both feeling the same thing, the need to be close after so long apart. “Believe me, I rather appreciate it myself,” he murmurs. He leans in to press his lips gently to the other’s, and oh, it’s like drinking nectar after days spent in the desert. Every time that they’re apart, Qui-Gon aches in his very bones. He needs this war to be over, so he can stop feeling sick every day he wakes up without Obi-Wan near. 

When they finally part, Obi-Wan sighs, glancing to the side. “Anakin,” he murmurs, and sure enough their former Padawan is striding up to them, all dark tabards and grins, with his own Padawan at his side.

“Hope I didn’t interrupt anything, Masters,” Anakin says, knowing full damn well that he did. Qui-Gon only laughs, parting from Obi-Wan to pull Anakin into a hug, then Ahsoka. 

“It’s good to see you, Master Qui-Gon,” Ahsoka says, her smile earnest as she looks up at him. He reaches out, fondly touching the side of one of her montrals for a moment. 

“It’s good to see you too, Ahsoka,” he says. They’ve formed a close bond, he thinks most likely because he doesn’t tend to be as stern as Obi-Wan or Anakin, and truthfully he spoils her a great deal. And he’s taught her how to cheat when they play card games with the others. 

“We were just about to grab something to eat from the mess,” Anakin says. “You wanna join us?”

“I think that sounds excellent,” Qui-Gon answers. “Give me a few moments to get out of all this armor, alright?”

Anakin nods, giving a wave. “See ya in a bit then!” he says, heading towards the mess hall with Ahsoka. Qui-Gon watches them go, thinking not for the first time that this isn’t how a Padawan should be raised. Jedi aren’t tools of war, and he worries that Padawans like Ahsoka, who were chosen and trained in a war from the start, won’t know quite how to function without it.

Obi-Wan catches his gaze, reaching out through their bond. "Are you sure you're alright, Qui?" he asks softly, one gloved hand on Qui-Gon's hip. Little gods, Qui-Gon cannot wait until they are alone, when they can both strip off their armor, their tunics, everything weighing them down. This war is so much. It is too hard, and Qui-Gon wants it to be over, so he can spend every night next to his bondmate again. 

Leaning down, Qui-Gon presses his lips to Obi-Wan's, feeling his beard brush against his cheek. He holds the kiss for a long few moments, hardly pulling back to speak when it's finished. 

"My dearest Obi," he murmurs, nose brushing against Obi-Wan's. In this moment, he can set everything else aside, all the troubles of war, of being apart, of fighting with his philosophies. The only thing that exists is him and his bondmate. "Of course I am, my love. I'm with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This is a piece I've been sitting on for a while, and I'm extremely excited to be sharing the first chapter. I hope it wasn't too expo heavy, and that you enjoyed it!
> 
> -Though I love the Clone Wars series, this piece really won't follow that at all other than borrowing some characters like Cody and Ahsoka and some others. Please don't read this expecting to see familiar battles and storylines! I may touch vaguely on certain plot points but I won't be re-hashing them, and they're really going to be pick and choose so I don't have to worry about the chronologic logistics of the actual series.
> 
> -It's going to focus much more heavily on relationships rather than battles. There will be fighting, don't worry, but it's more going to look at Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, and the relationships with others in the story, and how the war affects them.
> 
> -I know the end of this piece, so don't worry about me never finishing, I promise I will! I can't guarantee how quickly I'll update, but I was very eager to get this out, finally.
> 
> I hope you will stick with me!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> happy reunions with everyone - especially Obi-Wan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow the end of this chapter already has smut, it's about to get real explicit

After Qui-Gon strips his armor off, tucking it away next to Obi-Wan’s in the quarters they’ll share for the next two weeks, he takes his partner’s hand, entwines their fingers as they head for the mess hall. 

“It’s rather hard to believe we won’t be expected to do anything for the next two weeks,” Obi-Wan says, glancing around as they walk through the halls. 

Qui-Gon’s lips quirk into a faint smile, and his fingers tighten around Obi-Wan’s. “Well, I did practically beg the Council for some leave. I think they were a little shocked by it.”

Obi-Wan laughs, and Qui-Gon’s heart lightens to hear the joyful sound. “I have to say, the rest of them were rather speechless after that meeting. You were much more… humble than you usually are when dealing with the Council.”

With a snort, Qui-Gon shakes his head. “That’s because they like to argue with me most of the time. I wasn’t looking for an argument. My men are tired.”

Obi-Wan glances over, tugs Qui-Gon closer. “So are you,” he says softly.

“Yes,” Qui-Gon replies with a curt nod. “Of course I am. It’s been too long since we’ve been allowed to rest, and this war - “

“You’re preaching to the choir, Qui, you know I understand this,” Obi-Wan interrupts. “I see it in my men too. But we got our leave. Unless there’s a very big emergency, we all have some time off to regain our strength.” 

Qui-Gon almost visibly releases the arguments brewing in his skull. Obi-Wan’s right, he knows that his lover doesn’t need to be convinced. “Good,” is all he replies, the word soft. He needs this, desperately. While Qui-Gon used to be a good fighter - still is, he reminds himself, just not quite as good as he used to be before he got impaled through the chest - he is not a man meant for war. It’s not a life that he likes leading.

Obi-Wan gives him a small smile and leans in to kiss his cheek. “Let’s just enjoy ourselves as best we can,” he murmurs. Then he pulls Qui-Gon into the mess, glancing around for their dining companions. 

Qui-Gon takes in the sight, feeling a little more relaxed. The clones have mostly stripped their armor, making themselves at home. This base is large and comfortable, and outfitted with much more luxury than the small outposts they usually rest in when planning the next mission. All three of their respective battalions will be able to take a comfortable leave and recharge properly. As he looks around, he sees his smaller 67th mixing with the 501st and the 212th. Many of them know each other, given how often their generals work together. That’s good too, he thinks. Not all troops have been so receptive of his Wreckage Squad, given that they aren’t quite a typical battalion. But Anakin’s and Obi-Wan’s troops by and large take after their generals and other commanding officers. They are true and just, and incredibly loyal. Glancing into the smaller officer’s mess area, he sees Gadget and Rocker making conversation with Rex, Cody, and Jesse. All in all, the sight is as a whole reassuring. 

“Masters!” Anakin calls, and Qui-Gon looks up to see Anakin and Ahsoka moving towards them. “Come on, the food here looks way better than what we usually get served. I’m absolutely starving.”

Ahsoka rolls her eyes fondly, shaking her head. “You just ate something on the way here, Master.”

“A snack is hardly a meal, Snips,” Anakin says, leading the way to the back of the food line. 

“Honestly, Anakin, sometimes you act like we never fed you when you were a Padawan,” Obi-Wan teases. It makes Qui-Gon grin, remembering those times. In the very beginning, Anakin had been reluctant to ask for more of anything, which wasn’t surprising given his past as a slave. By the time he’d reached his teenage years, he’d had quite a healthy appetite even for a teenage boy. 

They walk through the line, Qui-Gon never straying more than a hand’s-breadth away from Obi-Wan, and he’s pleased to see that Anakin is right. The fare looks simply delicious, and they even have his favorite dessert. They head for the officer’s mess quarters, and Qui-Gon is relieved that the noise level dies substantially as they step into the walled-off area for the officers. 

Anakin’s constant banter with Ahsoka and Obi-Wan is cut off for a few minutes while he digs into his food, which Obi-Wan takes as a chance to grill Ahsoka on what Anakin’s been teaching her lately. She’s been learning Jar’kai, Qui-Gon knows, and had been very excited to craft her second lightsaber for it. 

When Anakin finally slows down enough to talk again, he looks up to Qui-Gon. “What do you think about the offensive on Altrin?” he asks. Qui-Gon shakes his head, holds up a finger to his lips to shush the other. 

“No war talk, Ani,” he declares. “We’re on leave for two whole weeks. Ask me about anything other than the war.”

Anakin laughs, backing down from the conversation easily. “Well, what should I talk about then?”

“Tell me how Padmé’s doing,” Qui-Gon requests. “I haven’t been able to speak to her in awhile.”

Anakin’s face softens the way it always does when someone mentions the senator, and he goes on to talk about her at some length. Seeing Anakin talk about her always makes Qui-Gon a little sentimental. Anakin means the world to him and Obi-Wan both, and it’s good to see him happy. There was a time Anakin had worried that his Masters wouldn’t approve, but that wasn’t the case in the slightest. 

“I’m glad to hear she’s doing well,” Qui-Gon says. “Perhaps I’ll have to schedule a chat with her during this leave.”

“I think she’d like that a lot, Master,” Anakin replies, his voice honest. “I’ll let her know you want to set something up.”

By the time they’re all done eating, Qui-Gon feels incredibly at ease in a way that he hasn’t been able to feel for longer than he cares to recount. He sighs, leaning back for a moment before standing. “I think it’s about time for me to retire for the night,” he says. “I know it’s early, but I’m absolutely exhausted.” 

Obi-Wan stands with him, smiling. “Then let’s take some time to rest,” he murmurs. He quickly disposes of their trays before moving back to Qui-Gon, winding an arm around his waist as Qui-Gon slips his arm around his shoulders. They’re not shy about public affection, especially not since the war started. They never wanted to waste what precious little time they had together.

“Have a good night, Masters,” Anakin says, and Qui-Gon doesn’t miss the faint snicker after his words - although he doesn’t really think he’s meant to. 

“You two get some rest as well,” Qui-Gon says. “Tomorrow perhaps we can play a few rounds of Sabaac.” He doesn’t really care what they do, honestly. This is his family, and he is intent on getting to spend time with them that doesn’t have anything to do with marching into battle. Even during Obi-Wan’s padawan years, they hadn’t been this busy with their missions. Before Qui-Gon’s mind could wander too far down that path, about how the Order had changed, he stopped it. Not the time. Right now, his time was for Obi-Wan, whom he was leading back to their quarters.

Stepping into their rooms, Qui-Gon is quiet. He only gives a soft sigh as he begins to unbraid his hair, which is long enough now to hang around the middle of his back. He’s quick to strip, making his way to the fresher, mumbling something about how nice it is to have a real hot water shower rather than making do with a quick sonic. He can feel Obi-Wan step into the shower behind him, turns to face him as his lover winds both arms around his waist. 

“Obi-love,” he murmurs, and that’s all he says for a long few moments. They don’t need words, not when they are both reaching out through their bond, pushing love and warmth and comfort through the link that ties them together no matter how far apart they are. Eventually, Qui-Gon drops his arms, only to find the soap so he can lather the other up. He gently moves his hands over the well-defined abdomen, the taut muscles of his arms and back before kneeling to make sure his legs receive the same treatment. He has a brief mental flash of those legs wrapped around him, and he can feel Obi-Wan’s grin through the bond, a soft _soon_ echoing down the thread. 

After Obi-Wan is clean, it’s Qui-Gon’s turn to be lavished with attention. He has to bend down a little as Obi-Wan washes his hair, but it’s routine, an action that is instinct at this point. The metal on Qui-Gon's chest doesn't get any soap but Obi-Wan gives it some attention anyways, fingers dancing over the plate, just as beloved to him as the rest of Qui-Gon's body, or so he says. It has gone from being an oddity to a well-loved part of his anatomy. After washing, they take a long time just to hold each other, bask in each other’s presence. 

It’s the most soothing thing Qui-Gon has had in months. 

When they finally get out, Obi-Wan pulls him to the bed, and he gently brushes out Qui-Gon’s hair. This too is just as soothing as the shower. Even before they created a bond, Obi-Wan had enjoyed brushing his Master’s hair, and Qui-Gon had taken pride every time Obi-Wan had asked him to replait his Padawan braid. After they became lovers, it had taken on a different sort of intimacy, Qui-Gon settled between Obi-Wan’s legs as the other tenderly loosened the tangles and styled the long tresses as Qui-Gon liked. This time, Obi-Wan lets it hang loose before moving to kiss Qui-Gon deeply. They both know what they want, now that they’re finally alone, fed and washed and content. Qui-Gon is absolutely determined to hear Obi-Wan moan his name before they sleep tonight.

He takes his time, pressing Obi-Wan onto his back and bearing his weight down on top of him as he kisses the living daylights out of him. Again he thinks of how Obi-Wan’s mouth might be sweet nectar after not having been nourished in far too long. He lavishes attention upon Obi-Wan’s body, moving from his mouth to his jaw to his chest. He hears Obi-Wan gasping softly. The sounds his lover makes, oh, Qui-Gon has always been addicted to them. He has taken his time to learn every single one, learn just what to do to coax them from his bondmate. As he gently scrapes his teeth over a nipple, he can feel Obi-Wan’s hand in his hair, tugging gently as he gives a soft “more, Qui, _please_ ”. 

Well. Qui-Gon certainly can’t resist that.

As he teases at Obi-Wan’s nipples with his mouth, his hand slips between the other’s legs, brushing against his cock. He doesn’t make him wait - maybe some other night this week, because Qui-Gon anticipates every night and probably every morning and maybe even some afternoons consisting of sex - but right now he knows they both need to feel complete as soon as possible. He strokes the other firmly, until he’s hard and Qui-Gon can feel wetness leaking from the tip, smearing it over the head of his cock with a deft thumb. 

Just before Obi-Wan can beg him, Qui-Gon grabs a small bottle of lubricant and slicks up his fingers. It’s easy to relax his lover enough to take a finger, and Qui-Gon has done this so many times that he knows just how to move to open Obi-Wan the quickest. It’s not long before he’s got Obi-Wan stretched around four fingers, his legs open, his head sunk into the pillows. He’s making the most incredible sounds that Qui-Gon just has to lean down to kiss them right out of his mouth. 

He is so in love.

Obi-Wan is eagerly grabbing for the lube himself, coating his hand before wrapping his fingers around Qui-Gon’s cock to cover him fully. They both know when they're ready, and Obi-Wan lifts his legs so Qui-Gon can press into him, inch by inch, until they’re connected as completely as they possibly can be. Qui-Gon stares down at his lover, meeting his gaze, their bond running electric between them. And then he moves, and watches as Obi-Wan tosses his head back with a cry. 

Qui-Gon moves with a steady, sure rhythm. The press of him sliding in and out of the other is almost too much for him, he knows he can’t last long this time. That’s alright, he thinks. Making love to Obi-Wan is no less powerful for its brevity. Reaching between them, he strokes Obi-Wan once more, twisting his wrist just so until the other clenches tight around him and comes with a cry of Qui-Gon’s name. It makes him absurdly pleased, hearing Obi-Wan so vocal, but he hardly has time to think about it before he’s gone as well, pressing deep into the other, feeling a visceral satisfaction as he spills himself into him.

For a few moments, they remain as they are, panting, joined sensations thrumming between them, light and happiness and joy. Qui-Gon wants to remain inside Obi-Wan, they both enjoy it, but this isn’t the best position for it. So he moves, shifting to his side to face Obi-Wan, pulling him close.

“I missed you so much,” he whispers, holding back far more words than that. To say more is to have to speak of what keeps them apart, and Qui-Gon doesn’t want to talk about the war. 

Obi-Wan reaches out, cups Qui-Gon’s cheeks, fingers gently stroking through his neatly-trimmed beard. “I missed you too,” he murmurs. His face is soft with happiness and content, the new worry lines all but disappeared in the wake of being sated in every way.

 _I love you_ , Qui-Gon sends through their bond, leaning in to kiss Obi-Wan once more, the action soft. He smiles as he hears the answering _I love you_ from Obi-Wan. It will be easy to drift off to sleep that night, with his lover in his arms. Where he belonged, always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more vague things of importance:
> 
> \- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan trained Anakin together, with special permission from the Council. They are both his Masters.  
> \- Anakin and Padme aren't a secret. It just doesn't work in my story, with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan allowed to be together.  
> \- Again I want to stress that I may borrow characters from Clone Wars, and may even cherry-pick events that I want to use, but it will be extremely selective and I won't adhere to the whole series. In a similar vein, I will retcon a few things from the movies (I mean... this is an AU already so) (Shmi Skywalker is alive in this story but it's not relevant atm).
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Kudos and comments are appreciated <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nightmare, and a shared meditation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I get too deep into this story, I think it's important to make a few notes regarding Qui-Gon's battalion. I've put them in the end notes.

It’s loud. It’s beyond loud, honestly, it’s deafening. All Qui-Gon can hear is rapid laser-fire, gunships flying overhead, soldiers shouting and gasping and dying. He swings his saber through another battle droid, hearing its dull clank as both halves hit the ground. One more swing slices through the head so it can’t process anything anymore, and then he’s onto the next one, and the next, and the next. Battle droids might not have the smarts and the ingenuity of creatures that are flesh and bone, but they were so Force-damned many of them. It seems like no matter how many his battalion slices through, there are waves more just behind. 

Focus. He has to focus. He’s not even at the frontlines with Anakin and Obi-Wan, he can’t imagine how bad it is - and he has to stop thinking about it, because Obi-Wan is there and it must be horrific. But Qui-Gon and his men have enough to deal with right now with what they’re being assaulted with. He blocks a shot from the nearest droid before sending it flying into the cluster behind it, tearing them apart with a quick manipulation of the Force. 

“Gadget!” Qui-Gon calls. “We need a plan, we have to make a dent in their numbers!”

He hears static over his com, and when Gadget speaks he can tell the clone isn’t impressed by their odds of success. 

“We might be able to shore them up in between the cliffs to the south, sir,” he says. “If we can get them there, they can’t assault us all at once, and we pick them out from the top of the cliffs too.”

Qui-Gon glances to look at the spot, assessing for a quick moment. It wasn’t a stellar plan, but it was the best they had at the moment. “Alright. We’ll need to fall back. Get some of the men to lure them into the cliff. We’ll try to get to the top without the droids realizing what we’re doing.” 

“Yes sir, General Jinn, sir,” Gadget replies.

Qui-Gon looks around him, almost continuously blocking shots until he finds a bit of cover. He can see Rocker behind a tall plant, the man clearly a bit out of sorts. He’s hiding for a moment, that’s clear, nervously tapping at his thigh. Qui-Gon is about to call out to him when there’s a shot, and the clone falls, wide-eyed. 

“Rocker!” Qui-Gon barely recognizes that the shout comes from him. He dashes to the man, kneeling, hoping against all hope that he might be able to heal him, but he knows the second he touches him that all traces of life are gone.

Breath coming heavy, Qui-Gon looks around wildly. Even with Gadget’s plan, they are almost sure to fail. He will lose so many men today. 

All he can hear is the laser fire, louder and louder and louder - - 

And then suddenly Qui-Gon is sitting up in bed with a shout, panting, only vaguely aware of Obi-Wan reaching for him as he covers his face.

“I’m here,” Obi-Wan murmurs, and Qui-Gon almost gives a soft sob. _Stay here forever_ , he doesn’t say, _This war might take you from me and I need you here._ He turns to press his face against Obi-Wan’s neck, letting his lover wind both arms around him tightly. Qui-Gon is sweaty and trembling, and given that the covers are practically on the floor he realizes he must have been tossing in his sleep. 

“I’m sorry to wake you,” he whispers. He can feel Obi-Wan shake his head. 

“Don’t be sorry. I understand,” Obi-Wan replies, voice low and gentle. “It happens to me too.”

And that, Qui-Gon hates. Some Jedi, like himself, like Obi-Wan, have come across dangerous missions, have had to do unpleasant things. Occasional nightmares are understandable. But the fact that they have just gotten used to them happening because of the war...it’s intolerable.

Qui-Gon sighs, pulls back just to fix his hair a little and to reach for the covers. “Even so,” he mumbles, hating that a nightmare has surfaced tonight. Hopefully they will be very few over the next two weeks.

Obi-Wan reaches for his hand as Qui-Gon lays down again, tucking himself next to the other. “Let me guard your dreams,” he murmurs. Qui-Gon can’t say no to such an offer, and he leans in closer to press his forehead to Obi-Wan’s. Obi-Wan reaches out through the Force, and their bond, gently wrapping himself around Qui-Gon’s presence. Should anymore bad dreams come, he’ll be alerted, he’ll ward them off. When Qui-Gon thanks him, he just smiles. 

“Anything for you, love,” he murmurs. “Now try to get some more sleep.”

It’s easy for Qui-Gon to drift back off, all wrapped up in Obi-Wan.

When he wakes a second time, it’s much more peaceful. Obi-Wan hasn’t woken yet, and Qui-Gon can take a few moments just to stare and admire. The man truly is gorgeous, handsome beyond compare. The beard he’d grown in the last few years lent him a sophisticated air that matched his accent, although Qui-Gon did sometimes miss seeing the cleft in his chin. His hair is dark in the dim light of the room, but Qui-Gon can picture how it gleams in the sunlight, all gold and red. And when Obi-Wan opens his eyes, Qui-Gon can picture the exact shade of slate blue they are in the light.

“Good morning,” he murmurs with a smile, leaning down to kiss Obi-Wan softly.

Obi-Wan sighs in return, smiling. “Morning, Qui,” he whispers. He doesn’t ask if Qui-Gon slept better, but then again he doesn’t have to. Of course Qui-Gon slept well after Obi-Wan coaxed him back to sleep.

They are both quiet for a long time, basking in being able to wake up next to each other and not immediately have to rush off to do anything. They will have two full weeks of this bliss. Obi-Wan plays with Qui-Gon’s braid, unraveling the ends and re-plaiting them, over and over. Qui-Gon always loves it, he always has. Obi-Wan’s hair is shorter now, but Qui-Gon remembers when it used to be a mutual ritual, how it felt when Obi-Wan would ask him to replait his Padawan braid. Later as a young Knight he had some length to play with. Even now he knows that Obi-Wan still likes when he gets his hands in his hair. 

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Obi-Wan’s voice is soft. Qui-Gon knows exactly what he’s referring to. 

“It was - just a dream.” He sighs, knowing that Obi-Wan won’t push him further, but that he wouldn’t like that answer. “Some massive battle. My troops were overwhelmed, I knew I was going to lose a lot of men. And then I saw Rocker. He was having trouble, he was terrified - he should’ve been helping with intel on the ship - “ Qui-Gon sighs, turns in closer to Obi-Wan. “He got hit. Killed instantly. It was all so - overwhelming.”

Obi-Wan strokes his cheek, fingers passing over the neatly-trimmed beard. “It wasn’t real. It didn’t happen.”

“No, but it could,” Qui-Gon replies, his expression darkening. “This war never ends.”

Obi-Wan shifts closer, pressing his lips to Qui-Gon’s jaw. “Peace,” he whispers. “Let’s not talk about the war right now.” His mouth moves steadily closer to Qui-Gon’s until he can kiss him properly, and Qui-Gon gives in easily. He does not really want to talk about the war, not at all, he wants to ignore it. Kissing gives way to a much more hands-on experience, and by the time Obi-Wan is coming in that soft, breathless way he always does when sleep still clings to the edges of his consciousness, Qui-Gon has mostly forgotten about the dream. The last vestiges of it vanish as Obi-Wan gives him a blissful smile, standing to head for the shower and beckoning for Qui-Gon to join him. It’s easy to relax underneath the luxurious spray of hot water. When they’re finished, Qui-Gon dresses in loose tunics and leggings, glad to not have to put on his armor or his cloak. That can stay on the shelf for two whole weeks.

Obi-Wan moves to a clear space in their quarters, settling down cross-legged and looking up at his lover. “Meditate with me?” he requests, clearly hopeful. Before the war, they meditated together almost every single morning. It is a comfort, and a blessing, and Qui-Gon certainly isn’t going to pass up this opportunity. He settles down in front of Obi-Wan, their knees touching, and takes his hands. With a smile, Obi-Wan closes his eyes. Qui-Gon follows suit after he takes a long moment just to observe the other. They reach out, traveling the well-worn path of the bond between them. This way they can truly have a shared meditation, each steadying the other and guiding them to the Force. They have always been opposites: Qui-Gon drawn strongly to the Living Force and Obi-Wan drawn to the Unifying. They are opposites in so much: in stature, in fighting style, in their approach to the Code and the Council. But they complement each other: in those differences they have found strength and compatibility. They teach each other, draw each other closer to the Force. It builds an ultimate trust between them: each has admitted his weaknesses to the other, and trusts him to protect. 

There is something about being completely surrounded by Obi-Wan’s very essence that makes for a strong, steady meditation. When they finally open their eyes, Qui-Gon feels so serene it nearly shocks him. Obi-Wan cups his cheek briefly, searching his expression, before standing. “Let’s get breakfast,” he says. “You’ve already given me quite an appetite.” With a cheeky grin, he slips out of their quarters.

It occurs to Qui-Gon that he’s not entirely sure what to do with two whole weeks away from the war, but he might just spend it worshiping Obi-Wan Kenobi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes about Qui-Gon's battalion
> 
> When I decided to write a Clone Wars AU, I made a few important decisions that would shape at least part of the story. One of those decisions was Qui-Gon's Wreckage Squad: a battalion made up of clones that have what the Kaminoans declare as "defects". Canonically, we've seen a few of these clones in the Clone Wars series. Truthfully I am only just starting season 7, but I believe the Bad Batch might be similar although their mutations are seen as favorable. I made another decision that was a head canon I like to play around with, which is the extensive damage that Qui-Gon sustained from his injuries from Darth Maul. As noted in the story, Qui-Gon's recovery involved extensive tissue replacement, some of it done with mechanics and metal. In this timeline, Qui-Gon's injury led to vast changes in his life. He is no longer able to fight the way he used to. It's not impossible for him to battle and his skills are still incredible compared to those who aren't as well trained as Jedi, but his stamina and his flexibility are greatly taxed. He's had to relearn moves that suit him better, and figure out how his body moves differently. He is not a bad swordsman, but he is no longer actively one of the greatest swordsmen of the Order.
> 
> So I gave Qui-Gon the Wreckage Squad. They're clones that have been deemed not fit for the front lines. Their "defects" are incredibly varied. It could be physical, whether from a variation or mutation in the genes when they were cloned, or from an injury in the field that couldn't be healed in a way that was found satisfactory for constant combat. Or it could be mental, clones whose personalities don't "mesh" the way they're supposed to: a penchant for questioning orders; having too much anxiety; losing their temper easily. Any of those things and more. However, they're Clones: considered property and not citizens of anywhere (another sticky subject to work with, truly). They must either be a part of the GAR or they must be terminated. Thus, the Wreckage Squad. Most of them can still fight, and those who can't are used for recon, intel, and strategy. They do see combat, but they are never usually a part of the front lines or of large-scale missions. They see smaller battles, when they are assigned to fight. Outside of that, due to another decision of mine to make Qui-Gon a healer, they also provide humanitarian relief. They sweep areas after combat, eliminating any straggling troops and ensuring the safety of the civilians. They provide resources to rebuild structure in devastated areas. This is how they fulfill their duty. 
> 
> Because I am dealing with the topic of disabilities, I always want to be sensitive to the subject. Some of these disabilities are ones I have personal experience with, so I am drawing on that. However, some of it will be unfamiliar to me on a personal level. If at any point you as a reader have a problem with something I've written, I would value that feedback. I do not ever want to be insensitive or ignorant. 
> 
> In future chapters you will get to meet some of these clones on an individual level. I have plans to spend a great deal of time with them. The Wreckage Squad isn't just a concept, but a collective of individuals that I have put a good deal of thought into, and will put yet more thought into before this story is over. I am hopeful that you will appreciate these characters and come to love them as every creator loves their original characters.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time with Ahsoka brings up fresh and old wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long! Trying to get back to a weekly schedule. Will hopefully succeed!
> 
> Quick pre-chapter note because Dooku is mentioned in this chapter: The canon timeline is a bit confusing (for me), and made more so since Dooku has two names, but it is canonical that the Jedi don't know Dooku is Darth Tyranus until season 6 of Clone Wars. Because this is murky, and because it suits my purposes for Qui-Gon angst, I am going with the idea that they know he's a Darksider, who also generally have red lightsabers and can use Force lightning like he did on Geonosis, but not that he's a downright Sith lord. I don't think there is any point in Clone Wars where they actually say he's a Sith lord until after that, so... this is my AU and I do what I want.

Ahsoka is distracted, Qui-Gon can tell.

Qui-Gon has been settling into a routine, or really, a lack of one. He's had a few days now to wake up and do whatever he pleases with Obi-Wan. Today Obi-Wan and Anakin are catching up, while Qui-Gon spends time with Ahsoka. They did morning meditations together, before running through a few katas. After that they sparred, Qui-Gon testing her on her new skills. She’s doing well, he thinks. Jar’kai suits her. It’s a challenging form to master - and Ahsoka is always up for a good challenge. He teaches her a new move, cementing it in her head before they decide they’ve had enough for the morning. They’ve finally gotten to that promised game of Sabacc, where they can sit and talk and while away the hours.

And throughout the entire time, it’s seemed like her head is elsewhere.

As Qui-Gon shuffles the cards, he watches Ahsoka, who is studying the pile of credits that make up the Sabacc pot. “What’s on your mind, Ahsoka?” he asks, his voice gentle. 

Glancing up, Ahsoka bites her lip, seemingly embarrassed. “It’s nothing, Master. I’m sorry, I’m just a little distracted.”

“I can tell,” Qui-Gon says, a gentle tease. He deals the next hand before setting the pile down. He’ll wait. She’ll speak, but it does no good to corner her.

After a few turns, she does. “I always thought that the Separatists were bad people,” she says quietly. “I mean - they’re fighting against us. We’re fighting for peace in the Galaxy. Anyone who’s not on our side - I thought they must be terrible.”

“Something’s changed your mind,” Qui-Gon observes, drawing a card to add to his hand.

“When I went to Raxus with Senator Amidala - I met some of them. Separatists,” Ahsoka says. “Mina Bonteri and her son Lux.” She shakes her head. “They were just - normal. It was like there was nothing different about me and Lux except for which side we were fighting on.”

Qui-Gon’s chest aches, for more than one reason. “People are rarely good or evil, Ahsoka,” he murmurs. She, and so many Padawans, were growing up in an era of war. Qui-Gon always worried whether it would radicalize the young ones too much, make them see things exactly as Ahsoka was describing. In war people tended to see the two sides as black and white. “I will not deny that some of our enemies have ill intentions. But war is not so easily broken down into the ‘good side’ and the ‘bad side’.”

“I know that now,” Ahsoka says, sounding small. “Lux was kind to me. He told me about how he didn’t trust the Senate, or the Jedi. But when we talked, there wasn’t really anything different about us. We both wanted to do what we felt was right. He wasn’t some kind of monster.”

“War is complicated,” Qui-Gon says, and it’s the biggest understatement he could ever make, he knows. “But many of the Separatists are good people who feel they’ve been treated unfairly by the Republic. There are planets who feel they’ve been ignored. They are not bad people. They simply have different ideas of what is best for their worlds.”

Ahsoka looks up at him, and he meets her gaze. “You don’t like fighting,” she says.

“It is my duty as a Jedi,” Qui-Gon replies. Although it is one that he has considered leaving behind, more than once, since this war began. But his Obi-Wan, he cannot leave him here. And he hopes that once this war is done perhaps the Jedi will return to their roots. As it is right now, they are too deeply mired in this war to break free.

“But you don’t like it,” Ahsoka repeats.

“No. I don’t,” Qui-Gon answers quietly. He has never been anything but honest with her. She is part of his lineage, and he would not do her such a disservice. “Some days, Ahsoka, I do not believe this was the right path for our Order. But I am a Jedi, and while I still see the Light I will follow it.”

Ahsoka moves to his side, sits down next to him, and winds her arms around him. He returns the gesture, kissing the top of her head. There is so much for her to learn, and hopefully she will learn it beyond this war. He wants her to be able to go on the missions he went on as a Padawan, and then Obi-Wan, and then Anakin. There were missions with fighting, yes, but there were simpler missions - looking over treaties, studying ancient texts, cataloguing plants and how certain crops could be better used. The Jedi had so much more to offer - but they needed to live through this. His breath hitches slightly at the thought. She would live. She must. They all must. 

But he can’t help that ever-present dread in his chest, the one that says they are Jedi but they are not invincible. His plated abdomen is a testament to what had almost happened to him. He should have died that day, and it was only Obi-Wan’s strength that pulled him through.

For a long while they stay that way, but when they finally return to their game of Sabacc Ahsoka seems a little more at ease. She is close with Anakin and Obi-Wan, but Qui-Gon knows how difficult it can be to talk about serious matters with them. Anakin can be rash and Obi-Wan has the tendency to occasionally be more clinical, and he’s a Council member. So Qui-Gon is just happy that he can be close to his grand-Padawan. 

Anakin has a few lessons planned for Ahsoka that afternoon, so Qui-Gon packs the deck of cards neatly away when it’s time. “I’d like to teach you a few healing tricks before our leave is up,” he says. “I know you haven’t quite gotten the hang of it but I think I can help you with a few minor things.”

Ahsoka brightens and nods. “Yes, Master Qui-Gon. It would be much appreciated.” As Anakin and Obi-Wan approach, she gives a wave before her and her Master depart. Obi-Wan winds his arm around Qui-Gon’s waist, and the older man leans into him with a sigh.

“You feel a little troubled, love,” Obi-Wan murmurs. He pulls Qui-Gon along to their rooms, glancing over him. 

“Perhaps just a little,” he admits. “Ahsoka and I were having a conversation that gave me pause. I wish she wasn’t completing her apprenticeship during a war.”

“I know. But that’s how things are, Qui,” Obi-Wan replies quietly. “All we can do is make the most of it. She’s safe with Anakin, and he’s a good teacher.”

“He is. But I worry she won’t know how to live in a time of peace, if it ever comes.” Qui-Gon pushes open the door to their room, moving to settle on the couch. Perhaps they can watch a holofilm, it might take his mind off things. It might allow him to pretend things are absolutely normal for a little while.

“It will come,” Obi-Wan insists. He settles at Qui-Gon’s side, reaching up to cup his cheek. “It’s not like you to be so pessimistic,” he says softly.

Qui-Gon reaches up, covers Obi-Wan’s hand. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m just in a bit of a mood, I suppose.” He closes his eyes, focuses on the bright feeling in the Force that is Obi-Wan. “Ahsoka told me she met some of the Separatist civilians. That they weren’t evil like she expected them to be. It made me think of my master.”

Obi-Wan makes a sympathetic noise, stroking Qui-Gon’s beard with his thumb. 

“Dooku wasn’t an evil man,” Qui-Gon murmurs. “I still don’t think he is. I - I wish he would contact me. I wish I could know what’s going on in his mind. What motivates him to do the things he does.”

“I always wish I had more to give you,” Obi-Wan murmurs. “On Geonosis, he wasn’t incredibly forthcoming. He just thought that the Republic was corrupt and taken over by the Sith lord. Perhaps he genuinely believes that enough to fight a war for it, love.”

Qui-Gon sighs, leans forward to rest his head on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I wish he’d ever told me why he left the Order in the first place,” he murmurs. Did he have doubts, the way that Qui-Gon had doubts? His old Master had never reached out to him - and it stung. 

“My love,” Obi-Wan whispers, his lips brushing against the top of Qui-Gon’s hair. “Let’s watch a film, hm? Take your mind off of things.” He squeezed his knee, tilting his head up. “We’re not going to solve that tonight. Let’s enjoy ourselves while we can.”

Qui-Gon gives a faint smile. How could he resist that? He shouldn’t waste the free time they have together moping about Dooku and the war. He’s going to live in the moment. “Anything, my Obi-Wan. That’s a good idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got notes for EVERY chapter so:
> 
> First of all, I can now be found on [Tumblr](https://lucisabsentiawrites.tumblr.com/)! This is mostly primarily for writing at the moment. It's brand new, but I'll be able to give updates, post WIPs, and answer questions there.
> 
> -I love love love Ahsoka's relationship with Plo Koon, and I don't want to hijack it but I envision a similar relationship between her and Qui-Gon due to Qui-Gon being who he is and his position in her life.
> 
> -If you couldn't tell I love serious talks and exposition and introspection so boy howdy I'm sure hoping you're all enjoying this still. 
> 
> Comments and kudos appreciated! Thanks for sticking around!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shmi makes an appearance. Qui-Gon still has too much on his mind. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon disagree.

“How’s Anakin?”

Shmi never fails to ask the question, even though she’s almost certainly had a call with her son earlier that evening. But she says that Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are more likely to tell her the truth should something be wrong, while Anakin will shrug it off in favor of not worrying her.

Qui-Gon smiles, leans against Obi-Wan, who wraps an arm around him. “He’s doing well. This break is proving to be good for him.”

“I think it’s proving to be good for all of you,” Shmi says, looking between the two of them pointedly. “Earlier he seemed more relaxed than I’ve seen him in quite some time.”

It almost pains Qui-Gon to hear that - everyone’s always tense and on guard these days, it’s hard not to be, but he is avidly not thinking about that right now. 

“He is. And good riddance,” Obi-Wan says with a laugh. “A relaxed Anakin tends to be a slightly less willful Anakin.”

Shmi just smiles, shakes her head fondly. “That’s my Ani,” she says. Qui-Gon wonders, sometimes, what it would have been like had they not gone back to free her. There are days that he thinks Anakin’s life would have been much different without his mother. And of course this leads to thoughts on how the Jedi are raised, on whether they should rightfully be taking infants from their parents. The Jedi are a family, sure, and they’ve been raised without their biological families for the most part - but Anakin had needed it, Qui-Gon is certain of that. And if they weren’t quite so rigorous about their practices, might they be able to help more Force-users? Children who managed to slip underneath the radar for longer than usual, just as Anakin had?

With a shake of his head, Qui-Gon returns his attention to Shmi. There’s a time and a place, and it’s not on a call with a precious friend. “How is your shop?” he asks. “Business going well?”

Shmi nods, a smile crossing her face. She’d acquired a great deal of skill just as Anakin had when she’d worked for Watto, and when she’d come to Coruscant she’d been offered a small storefront of her own if that’s what she wished. She’d quickly become one of the best, known for her skill and her patience and kindness. “I’m working on an extensive droid repair at the moment,” she says. “It’s a new challenge, but I’m enjoying the work.”

“Mm, does this mean you’re getting close to building Anakin a droid from scratch for his next nameday?” Obi-Wan laughs.

Shmi laughs too, shaking her head. “I’ll let him build his own droid again, lest I make one that doesn’t get along with C-3PO.”

Qui-Gon thinks that might be a good idea, to have Anakin work on something like that again, but it’s not going to happen anytime soon. They continue to converse for a while, before Shmi yawns and says she has to get to bed. After she hangs up, Obi-Wan glances at his partner.

“You seem distant again tonight,” he murmurs, and Qui-Gon glances at him, gives a rueful smile. 

“I’m sorry. I seem to have quite a bit on my mind,” Qui-Gon replies, looking down as Obi-Wan takes his hand and entwines their fingers. 

Obi-Wan presses a kiss to his shoulder, before resting his chin there. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It doesn’t strike me as very good vacation talk,” Qui-Gon replies, more to stall than anything else.

Obi-Wan stands, pulls Qui-Gon up before moving to bed. “I think vacation is probably the best time to talk about it,” he murmurs. “We don’t have a lot of time we can focus on it otherwise.”

Qui-Gon sighs, lays down next to the other. For a long moment he’s quiet. Then - 

“What are we doing here, Obi?” he murmurs. “This - this is not the Jedi way. We are not meant to fight wars, to be _leaders_ in those wars.”

Obi-Wan stiffens, his lips thinning. They’ve vaguely broached this topic before, and they don’t exactly agree. “We’re doing our duty, Qui,” he replies quietly. “Our duty is to protect peace in the galaxy. Like it or not, there’s a war going on. We can’t stop it, but we can aid the side that aligns with our goals.”

“And why does that translate into us being generals?” Qui-Gon says. “How does this align with our goals? The Sith - yes, that’s our business, but the Separatist Army is not made up of Sith lords. We have no business fighting people who have goals of their own. We’re not the government, we shouldn’t be choosing which form of government suits the people better.”

“Are we supposed to stand back and watch, then?” Obi-Wan asks. 

“I didn’t say that,” Qui-Gon replies, frowning. “We should be more neutral. We should be helping the senators form a peace between the two sides, and those that wish to remain neutral. We’re bred to fight, yes, but we’re also bred to be diplomats. Our missions used to be of such a sort.”

“We’re bred to follow the will of Council,” Obi-Wan says. “They’ve put much thought into this, and if they’ve decided this is the best course of action, then I trust them.”

“Oh, damn the Jedi Council,” Qui-Gon groans, sinking back against the pillows, covering his face. “You always did follow them to the letter.”

Obi-Wan sighs and looks at his partner. “Like it or not, they represent the Jedi. We can’t all be mavericks like you, Qui-Gon. There are thousands of us, we need a unifying body.”

Qui-Gon doesn’t respond to that with anymore more than a faint grunt. The room is quiet, perhaps a little tense. 

“This has to do with Ahsoka?” Obi-Wan murmurs, reaching to pull Qui-Gon’s hands away from his face. “That talk you told me about?”

“Mm. Anakin too. About how different his life would have been if we hadn’t been allowed to free his mother, if she hadn’t continued to be a guiding force in his life as we demand of all the other children. I’ve - been questioning a great deal lately,” Qui-Gon says, almost afraid to admit it even to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, who follows the Council no matter what, who inherently believes in the Jedi Order. “I worry perhaps the Jedi are straying from their path. Not intentionally, but - I worry about our future. About our rules, about how closely we follow the Senate’s commands.” He reaches to take Obi-Wan’s hand, staring up at the ceiling. “I know what the Order says about me. They believe I should adhere more strictly to the rules. That often I speak out of turn. But the Living Force is speaking to me, Obi. I just can’t quite tell what it’s saying yet.”

Obi-Wan shifts closer, leans in to kiss Qui-Gon’s forehead gently. Though they might not agree, Qui-Gon is relieved that Obi-Wan always has his back. There is a great deal of trust between them, and respect. While the younger Jedi might think Qui-Gon is rash sometimes, he knows he takes his commitment to the Force seriously. “No better time than a war for the Force to speak, I suppose,” he murmurs. “Just - don’t burden yourself with so much, Qui. We have so much on our plates already. You wouldn’t be able to change anything immediately even if you did figure everything out.” He brings Qui-Gon’s hand to his lips. “This war won’t last forever,” he murmurs.

No, Qui-Gon thinks, it won’t. He only worries it will last long enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, all! I'm so sorry it took so long! For the past several months, I've had to deal with moving which is so stressful. I am finally in a new place, though, and I do hope to do weekly updates. I want to get my writing schedule back on track, and I believe this is possible! Thank you for your patience and continued support!
> 
> -You can find me on my [Tumblr](https://lucisabsentiawrites.tumblr.com/)! It's new, but I'm hoping to build up more content soon, like WIPs and ideas and headcanons and all that good stuff.
> 
> -I am co-hosting a QuiObi gift exchange with Firondoiel! Please find more information, rules, and sign-up links [here](https://quiobisecretsanta.tumblr.com/)! There's still several days to sign-up!
> 
> As always, your comments and kudos are so very much appreciated <3


End file.
